Bass Monroe's redemption
by xAmazing
Summary: Bass/OC. When only this ONE girl can change a life... #Meet Amelia Mikaelson.
1. Hitler was a dwarf too

Recently I have an obsession over Bass Monroe. It's getting slightly annoying for me, because I can't reach to find a story worthy to put him into. I tried that, thousand times. Never good enough. So... Let's try again, shall we? ;)

* * *

He was dead. Chase was dead... How could that have happen? How could _she_ had let that happen? She didn't remember. It all happened so fast, it all stays so blurry inside her head. One moment, they were here, talking and laughing. And the next second... Gunshot. Fog. She's been shot, she looks down : her abdomen is bleeding. She unconsciously rest against a tree. Her breath short, sharp. Another gunshot. _He_ fell to the floor. She hardly falls next to him, he stares at her. He needed help. He was scared, and hopeless... He was counting on her, and she let him down. She passed out. She _passed out _while her little brother was bleeding out next to her. And that... She couldn't forgive herself. No. She should've been able to handle it. She should've been stronger, and take care of him first. He was still a baby, _damn it_! He was just a boy, and because of her he'd never have the chance to be a man. She loved him. She loved him more than anything else in this world. Since the black-out he was all she had. She only had one thing to do, one thing : _protect him_. And she failed. She failed miserably. "_It should've been_ _me_..." Keeps repeating itself inside her head. She closes her eyes, and her mind flee to the memory of him.

His dark hair, childish face and baby blue eyes, this playful smile across his lips... All that made Chase.

He's been taken away too quickly. God has been unfair. He's been taking back her twelve years old baby brother, and left her twenty-six sad asses alive. Why? She couldn't find the strength to understand, to forgive, to have _faith_. What kind of God would do this to his people? The wars, the famines, the black-out, all theses things that happened to them over the years... No God would abandon his people, no she liked to think that _her_ God wouldn't do such a thing. Pushing her thoughts, and memories aside, she slowly looks up as she hears horses, loud hoofs hitting the floor, and noisy talking.

_Oh shit. _Was the first thing that crossed her mind. She was so screwed... She should've stand back on her feet, she should've been strong, she should've walked back to south when she still could, back to Georgia. But it was the story of her life. She never did what she _should've_. She should've stayed in Washington, she should've protect her little brother, she should've fight harder, she should've - **« Hey! » **Sudden shout stopped her clear.

Her chestnut eyes looks up at the male's voice. The man was pretty tall, light blond hair, grey eyes ; quite handsome to be truthful. A carriage had stopped only a few meters away from her actual place. She eyed him for a second : he was wearing a dark green uniform. ...Wait a second. Uniform. Ah! Even better. After the rebels, she had the honor -_see the irony of it_- to see the Militia. How lucky !

**« What are you doing here? » **The man asks in a hesitating tone.

Ah. Newbie soldier that he is. Well, why won't he mind his_ business?_ She mentally asks herself while not answering him. She gave him a bothered look, and put back her chin against her knees ; her eyes unconsciously defying him.

She could hear some more talking, sounding like whispers, before she finally hears a : **« General, go back in the carriage, it could be a trap. » **The man tried to keep his voice down, but even she could hear the worry in his voice. She rolls her eyes at that, _I can hear you_ she wanted to say but decided to keep it quiet. After all, she wasn't truly in possibly to negotiate anything with the Militia ; they were just as bad as theses rebels, if not worse. She wouldn't choose a side, she didn't wanted a false republic as this one, but she didn't wanted some corrupt people to win over the country either. No. She wanted it like it used to be, she wanted the **United States of America. **It was a dream. Nothing more than a dream, and she was well aware of that.

**« Your name. »** Another soldier before her demands in a more pressing tone.**  
**

**« What do you care? » **She asks softly, her voice slightly hoarse from the lack of talking. It must be two days she was there, staying by her little brother's corpse. She couldn't bring herself to leave him there, alone. No, he deserved better than that. So much better than that.

**« I asked for your name ! » **He raises his voice.

She remain silent. This one was the complete opposite from the first one. He seemed elder, dark hair, green eyes. His face was more severe than the first one. _And I will not give it to you_. Why should she? What did they wanted from her anyway? Why had they stopped to her for starters? Fine, maybe she looked like some sort of poor person or something, but it was highly improbable that they stop simply by kindness of heart, she knew.

He took a step ahead, his huge hand grabbing her arm tight, and pulling her up. She gasps in surprise, _what the_... It was much of a reflex -she knew she shouldn't have, but she wasn't thinking- she moves out of his grip and send a elbow kick in his face. He back away due to the "shock", much more due to the _surprise_. She didn't stopped there, she clenched her first, and hit him. He staggered to the floor.

**« You son of a bitch sure as hell _don't touch me _! »** She hissed in gritted teeth.

Quickly, four guns were pointed at her. _Oops. _She swallows thick but didn't move. What use would it be? Running would be useless, and beneath her. She didn't stand a chance, she knew, they'd probably shoot her in the back theses bastards. No, she'd die proudly. She'll face her death like a lady. No crying, no begging. And then, she'll join her brother back in Heaven. Yeah, that sounds like a plan. She clenches her teeth, waiting for it to come.

**« Any lasts words? » **He teases with a cruel smile.

She bores her cold chestnut eyes into his. **« What about... "God bless America?" And **_fuck you_**. Too. »**

His smile slowly faded. **« Kill her ! » **He barks.

Her eyes closes themselves. _Please God_, she silently prayed, _make it quick... And painless_. She wouldn't be capable to handle any more pain. No. No, she had enough of that for a life time. She wanted a soft, gentle death. Like angel wings pulling her out of her misery. Leading her through the clouds to find back her beloved Family... _That_ is what she wanted. But before she could truly understand anything, another male's voice, incredibly smooth and low, interfere. **« Don't. »**  
He says, and with that: Nothing happens.

No gunshot. Nothing.

She hesitatingly opens one eye. She wasn't quite sure what was happening, to say the least. One was saying -barking- to kill her and then another one says otherwise. This one must be up-graded because they actually _listened_. Thank god. She released a breathe she didn't even realize she was holding. _Damn it, that was close_.

...

He made a move of the wrist, and they all magically disappeared. {Okay, I confess they simply walked back to the carriage and waited there.} Still that made the brunette frowns. What the fuck? _Who the hell are you_? And it seems like she said the last out loud, because he actually answered. **« I'm Sebastian Monroe. »**

It immediately hit her. _Sebastian Monroe, as in... _She wrinkled her eyes. _Really_? **« _You_ are Monroe? » **She seemed surprise for a second while he had a soft but emotionless smile on his lips. Her entire feature changes. **« How disappointing ! I imagined the **_Oh so Great_** General Monroe a bit taller. »** She eyed him scornfully for a second before she adds :** « But then again, _Hitler_ was a dwarf too. »**  
That being said, she spins on her heels and start walking away. She was mentally crossing her fingers that she could actually she leave like that, it would be highly surprising but hey... God owed her one. More than one.

He couldn't fight a small smirk growing across his lips. That one had spunk, he liked that.

He snapped his fingers and as he did so, she was surrounded by his guys. Where were they even hiding to arrive that quick? She rolls her eyes out at that, stopping clear, she crossed her arms on her chest, sending Monroe a bad look which he only answers by a look of smug satisfaction. Why did she saw that one coming? It was too easy. She knew it.

He tilts his head to the side, his eyes never leaving hers. **« What's your name? »**

She chuckles bitterly, _again_**. « Why should I tell you? **»

**« Well that's the polite way to be, I suppose. »** He gave her a charming smile, but she stayed cold as a statue.

**« Too bad. I have no wish whatsoever to be polite towards a murderer of thousands of ****innocent people. »**

He firmly grabs her by the chin, his blue eyes going wild. **« Now, I'm quickly going to stop finding you entertaining. For your sake, do not push me. » **His tone was low, and threatening, as he bores his cold blue grey eyes into her brown orbs. **« **_What_** is your name? » **

To his biggest surprise, she leans closer into him, never breaking the eye contact. **« **_I_** am Amelia Mikaelson, daughter of John Mikaelson, one and **_only_** president of the United States of America. »**


	2. Oops

...Oops. Coming ;)


End file.
